Fire, Ice, And Blood
by Wotcher Motherduckers
Summary: From a young age, Harry could never understand the differences between the way he was treated by the Dursleys and the way the other boy in the house was. But he never thought it could change. How will the re-emergence of one lost godfather alter Harry's little life? Warnings: Child abuse, possible slash in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Synopsis: From a young age, Harry could never understand the differences between the way he was treated by the Dursleys and the way the other boy in the house was. But he never thought it could change. How will the re-emergence of one lost godfather alter Harry's little life?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Warnings: Child abuse, probably slash in later chapters

A/N: This is a rewrite of my old story 'The Fire' as when I now read over it, the flaws and plotholes jump out at me like actors in a haunted house attraction. I would also like to apologise for the lack of activity for the past few years and announce a temporary hiatus on my other stories for the duration of this one as I don't want to spread myself too thin and am also attempting to prioritise my health. Thank you.

* * *

In a perfectly normal county, there was a perfectly normal borough, and in that perfectly normal borough there was a perfectly normal town, and in that perfectly normal town, there was a perfectly normal house.

In this perfectly normal house, however, there was not a perfectly normal family. Not one member could qualify for even a moderately normal patch, even when the strange going on within the house were ignored.

Mr Vernon Dursley was a large man with a stomach often compared by neighbours in quiet voices to that of a hippopotamus or unfortunately large walrus, whose face had a tendency to turn an unflattering shade of puce only a man such as Vernon Dursley could quite achieve. It was almost impressive. If he had gone a shade darker, one might have feared he was suffering from severe asphyxiation and call for a doctor, of course after taking a note of the colour for paint shades. He had a short and hot temper and was quick to anger, though only really in relation to one person.

Mrs Petunia Dursley was quite the opposite of her husband, all long and thin, with a long neck and a face often compared to a horse. The horse in question took offence to being compared to such a being and threw its rider, it might be noted. She had a horribly high and grating voice and drab dark hair that hung in dull clumps on her scalp. She was also quick to anger in relation to one, not so much to others, and constantly strived towards unachievable perfection.

Mr Dudley Dursley was rather like his father. He fit into the same weight category of 'Dangerously Obese' and was often likened to a baby whale, to which many would reply with the statement that any baby whale would weigh less and be much prettier than the cruel boy. He was a bully to anything beneath him, people, animals, even ants. At the age of barely three, he had discovered how to use somebody's broken eyeglasses to make animals burn and hurt. A year later he discovered the water hose and the ant hill un the back garden. He was truly not a nice child.

And finally, by far the least abnormal of the family, was one Mr Harry James Potter, despite quite how unusual the boy was. His frame was far too small for a boy of his age, his black hair was too messy, his eyes were almost too green, piercing and powerful, awe and fear-inspiring at once, and of course, his scar stood out, pale against his skin. But the many strange occurrences that surrounded Harry were not what made him not normal - for they were perfectly normal for a wizarding child. What distinguished Harry was his incredible power. His magical core was larger than the average adult wizard at only eight and a half and still growing and far too in touch with his body and mind. His magic flowed freely through his body. It was wonderful but oh so very abnormal.

And that was what made every other occupant of the perfectly normal house despise the poor child - his magic. It was unnatural to them, sinful and shameful, something to hide and punish. Punished it was, too, within the house, not in the regular way of groundings or being sent to bed without a snack, but in a much worse way. In a way that truly made the occupants of the house abnormal.

A way that spoke clearly of each occupant of the house. A way that was violently depicted on the smallest occupant's body in the form of scars and injuries that would not get the chance to heal.

A way that was currently inflicting more injuries.

The crash of Harry being thrown into the cupboard resounded through the house but not indeed through its walls to be heard by anybody but the occupants of the house. The door was slammed shut on the crying boy, who curled up, bleeding and terrified.

 _'Please God, please help me. I need a_ _friend. Maybe send an angel... The nicest angel you have?'_ The small boy's prayer was cut off as his consciousness was lost to his blood loss.

* * *

The gods, as it seemed, owed the boy a favour, as many miles away, on a small dark island a howling dog finally noticed something he ought to have noticed about seven years ago.

Sirius Black may not have been the smartest of dogs, but he was smart enough to notice that something was off. The dementors glided past him without a pause, a rare occurrence, he had always been a favourite of theirs, they just loved sucking all the good memories from him.

He ceased his howling to wonder why this might be when he spotted a human guard coming. He contemplated shifting back, avoiding being discovered as an animagus, but it was already too late.

The guard was shouting, loudly.

"Hey, hey Blake, come here!" She yelled out, shock in her voice. Sirius skunk back in fear, thinking they were going to move him to a higher level and put him in anti-animagus cuffs and take away his few moments of freedom.

Blake came over, looking at the cell and the dog before at his companion.

"Where's Black?" He demanded.

"I don't know! The dementors just passed right past the cell so I investigated and there's just a dog!"

"No chance of it being an animagus?" Blake questioned.

Sirius forced himself not to stiffen. What were they teaching these stupid new Aurors? Moody must have retired for them to be this bad. Honestly.

"No, Black isn't registered as an animagus and it'd have been caught in his trial if he was unregistered, wouldn't it? We need to report this and get that poor dog out of there." The female guard said, looking in sympathy to the Grim.

Blake frowned at the dog before caving. "Alright. But where did the dog come from?" He asked, clearly not satisfied. As he shouldn't be, Sirius thought, but he could see them both caving into the idea of him having already escaped.

"I don't know. It looks like a stray. Black must have grabbed it and left it here to stall us." The woman decided. "Let's get it out of here. It looks terrified." She said, opening the door to the cell.

Sirius could not believe it. This... It made no sense. They were letting him go. They were helping him escape...

He walked out slowly when he was encouraged by the female Auror. He had no clue what her name was.

"Wait, this feels wrong, Black could-" Blake cut off suddenly, merely nodding and closing the cell door. Sirius looked up at him, confused, but allowed himself to picked up by the female Auror.

An hour later, after a small test to check he had no enchantments on him, not deep enough to see an animagus transformation, Sirius was taken by the female Auror to her home. It was beautiful, she was clearly a Light Pureblood, the room they were in decorated in pale icy blues.

He still couldn't comprehend what had happened. He was free. Free at last...

He looked up at the female Auror, who had brought him some food. Chicken and rice. She obviously had no dog food.

"Here you go, pal. Once you've eaten I'll get you down to the vets and to a shelter. They'll take care of you," She cooed over him, scratching him behind the ear. He licked her hand before turning to eat the food, enjoying the plain boiled rice and baked chicken. He wouldn't be staying around long enough to be taken to the vets. He had to go and do something. Find Harry and Peter, clear his name, do whatever he could to help Remus. He couldn't imagine what a state his friend would be in, seven years without his pack...

When the Auror next left the room, leaving her wand on the table, he relaxed, gulping down the last of his food before grabbing the wand in his jaws. He used the magic of it to go to the last place he remembered seeing Harry, Godric's Hollow, the crack of Apparition and the licked clean plate the only thing left of the black Grim.

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning, he could see the light pouring in through the cracks of the door. He automatically began to panic.

The Dursleys would be awake. They would want breakfast and he had to move now. He tentatively pushed at the door, thinking it would still be locked and knowing he would be punished if it was and he didn't get out. He would also be punished if he did.

Thankfully the door was open and he hurried out, heading straight for the kitchen silently as he could, hurrying, almost tripping over his own feet in his rush. He stopped dead when he entered the kitchen to find a man standing at _his_ stove, in the middle of cooking some eggs, humming quietly to himself. The man looked up at him, the movement seeming nearly painful, his sunken grey eyes sparkling as he looked at the small boy in the doorway.

"Harry, pup, you've grown!"

* * *

A/N: Oops, a cliffhanger and total change of how Sirius escaped! Thank you for reading and review if you wish - it might even give me enough motivation to get up new chapters too!


	2. Chapter 2

Synopsis: From a young age, Harry could never understand the differences between the way he was treated by the Dursleys and the way the other boy in the house was. But he never thought it could change. How will the re-emergence of one lost godfather alter Harry's little life?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Warnings: Child abuse, probably slash in later chapters, lots of Dumbledore bashing.

From Chapter 1:

 _He [Harry] stopped dead when he entered the kitchen to find a man standing at his stove, in the middle of cooking some eggs, humming quietly to himself. The man looked up at him, the movement seeming nearly painful, his sunken grey eyes sparkling as he looked at the small boy in the doorway_.

 _"Harry, pup, you've grown!"_

Sirius had discarded the wand quickly. He knew Dumbledore wouldn't risk having Hagrid take his pup far and he could easily travel the distance as Padfoot. Dumbledore didn't trust people, that Sirius had learnt. He was a manipulative bastard who was more than aware of people's true allegiance.

That fact Sirius had figured out quite early in his imprisonment, watching who was imprisoned and who wasn't, listening to the babble of Bellatrix. He would miss her dearly, nothing else about Azkaban but her. His older cousin, she had always been nice to him, even when she found out about James and then Remus. She had been so mad but she hadn't told anybody, had protected him. She was a Death Eater, but still family.

She had told him of the trials, had sobbed over her husband's immediate sentencing to be Kissed, had been shocked by Lucius and Snape's release - advocated by Dumbledore himself. Even when Snape had said the _worm_ was the Secret Keeper, which he had apparently found out by listening to a conversation between Voldemort and one of his followers, and Dumbledore had dismissed it.

He was shocked at first but now, after years of pondering, it was clear.

The only thing that was not clear was who that damn witch, the one who helped him escape.

He was sure he'd figure it out eventually, but the name was nagging at his mind.

He looked down at her wand and decided the most appropriate disposal of it. Catching it on the white painted gate to his best friend's ruined home, he pulled back sharply, snapping the wand and letting the magic of the core be released before he chewed at either end of the wand, growling a low playful growl that sounded pitiful to the ears of any human. He then left the now useless twigs on the ground before jumping the fence to the house, intending to see if the spare wands he knew James kept were in there still. He had even got one for Harry, off of a wandmaker from Wales, who agreed reluctantly that making a wand for an underage child while their core was still pure and true and undamaged would be beneficial in their situation, for then it would be only able to be used by Harry. He remembered that meeting so well remembered the pride he felt as he watched Harry find his perfect wand.

Peter may have been Secret Keeper for the cottage, but he didn't know all the secrets of the Potters.

Sirius nudged the front door open, trying not to whine as the old wards accepted him like a warm hug, the taste of his friend's magic overwhelmingly potent even after all that time. If he were human at the time, he would have shed a tear...

He could not risk being found, even with the wards, Albus or Minerva or Remus could get in there easily. He found James' study, never entered by Voldemort and surprisingly unharmed by the blast of magic that had destroyed the house when Lily's protection fell into place, going in quickly and finally shifting to his human form, only out of necessity. He rummaged through the drawers of the desk, looking for any sign of the box James had bought.

He pushed back papers of the fifth drawer he had searched of this godforsaken desk, a small flaw in the making of the drawer caught his eye before he made sense of it.

He carefully lifted the papers - cases James was going through for the Ministry, likely handing back through Minerva - before moving the false bottom of the drawer too, lifting it and leaving it to the side as he grinned. There they were.

In a long box, the carved symbol of the wandmaker on its top, just waiting to be used. He opened it quickly, picking out the dark wood of his wand, revelling in the feeling of his magic singing inside him, finally reconnecting after those seven long years in Azkaban. He shrunk the box, grinning like a madman as his magic surgingsur gingerbread inside him, intending to take all the wands with him. If he hid them somewhere safe, it would pay to have the spare ones, even if they weren't his, and of course, Harry would need his true wand, custom made as it was.

Brilliant.

He looked through what was left in the secret space. Shrunken books on magical heritage, parchments, several Gringotts keys, a full list of the contents of all the Potter Vaults, a bag of potions, even a copy of the Potters' will be shoved inside. But what caught Sirius' eye the most was the sealed ring box, a standard in Most Nobel and Ancient Houses, such as Potter and Black, far bigger than it was meant to be, however. Meaning there were multiple rings. Multiple rings - Harry's heritage had to be something impressive then, and the books made sense.

He sorted through what he would need, leaving the books in the knowledge he could come back eventually if necessary. He took each key and ripped a strip of cloth off the bottom of his prison uniform trousers, ripping it to a more reasonable size before tying it through the runic symbols on the handle of them, creating a makeshift keyring, tying a knot, of course taking the ring box and papers for the corresponding vaults. He took a moment to think before unshrinking the wand box and instead of shrinking each other item, careful to target the potions inside the potions bag as well as the bag itself, and placing them inside the wand box. It would fit inside a bag, he reasoned, sure there would be some clothes he could use somewhere in the house. Even in the laundry room, he could spell them clean if necessary. He wasn't as fussy as he used to be.

He put the false bottom back in the drawer and the papers back also. He closed the drawer and quickly straightened up the desk before leaving the room, clutching the wand box tightly. He found James and Lily's room easily, stopping dead in the doorway. It seemed the outward damage was way more. The inside of the house looked completely fine, undamaged. But what stopped him was not that, but rather the letter on the bed.

He walked towards it slowly, stumbling slightly as he did so, almost sobbing at the all too familiar handwriting of James. It was a letter, he realised, to him.

 _Dear Sirius..._

Dressed in jeans, a Led Zeppelin band tee, and a black leather jacket, Sirius left Godric's Hollow feeling good. He had cleaned up, showered, clipped his nails (he had been tempted to paint them but decided it was too time consuming), shaved, and calmed his hair and trimmed it.

He felt absolutely great.

He needed to find Harry first, find him and make sure he was okay and take him with him to Remus. He had an idea of where he might be, thanks to James and his ingenuity. And of course Lily's charmwork. He just didn't know how to get there...

He contemplated for a second before reaching into the bag he had brought with him and taking out the Muggle money, an idea forming. He would take the Muggle Ta-key to Old Mrs Figg's house, Lily had made friends with the old woman and knew it was near the Dursleys house. With any luck, they hadn't moved and Harry would be nearby.

But how did you get a Ta-key from here?

Sirius sighed, his plans stopped dead as he remembered that he now had a wand. He would just Apparate to Wisteria Walk. At this time, nobody would notice, he thought.

And so he apparated to Wisteria Walk, the sound of doing so silent with his new and compatible wand.

It was chaos in the Ministry.

Sirius Black's escape was a national threat that had to be neutralised as soon as possible. This time, he would be kissed if he was found.

The female Auror, a half-blood by the name of Sarah Pevensey, had been interviewed and nothing found during her interrogation. Nobody knew how Black had escaped and nobody had linked the dog and the escapee. It was noted that the dog had taken Pevensey's wand and accidentally apparated and chewed and broke the wand, proving to them that it could not be Black. Black wouldn't chew a wand, having been trained an Auror he would know better even if he were a dog animagus, which they all doubted. They determined the dog was dead as a reportedly similar looking black dog had been taken to a vet and died in a surgery after it had swallowed a foreign object.

Blake had also been interviewed and a Confudus charm had been discovered to have been cast on him, supposedly by Black. Blake and Pevensey's testimonies matched despite and Blake was sent to a healer to have the charm properly removed and be monitored during recovery. It was essential witches and wizards were monitored after such spells had been cast on them as they could have permanent effects on a person if not removed in time. They could drain the magic and leave a person nothing more than a miserable and outcast squib.

A paper would be released in the morning announcing Black's escape and the reward on his head, five thousand galleons plus any damage done to property or person during his capture. Only if he was captured.

Alastor Moody, a good six years from retiring, heaved a sigh as he looked at the assignment to find Black. No leads, no sightings, absolutely nothing to go off...

At least it gave him a break from training those pathetic cadets who didn't know a silent stunner from a silent Cruciatus, maybe a trip to some more magical and tropical islands in search of the fugitive. He knew that's where he would go if he broke out of Azkaban...

Sirius' eyes darted around nervously as be landed in Wisteria Walk. He noticed lights on in the house he was outside. He could tell it was Figg's by the numerous part kneazles on the lawn, who either hissed at him or just gave an incline of the head and strutted off. He stared, blinking once, twice, before regaining his senses and looking around at who else was on the street. Nobody. Good.

He shifted into his Grim form, stretching and shaking himself out, giving the kneazles a good-natured grin before sniffing the air and following the familiar scent of his pup. A little bit of James, a little bit of Lily, a little something special, and the pure power his pup held that smelt like danger and electricity in the weirdest way.

He followed the scent to one Privet Drive, a weird long road with weirdly identical houses that were barely distinguishable. Every car was the same damn make in the same basic colours (black, red, occasionally a blue or white) and every front garden was identically trimmed. It was... Perfect.

He hated it.

He followed the strong scent of Harry to a house with an absolutely immaculate appearance and a _polished_ brass number four decorating the unremarkable door. Careful not to cross the wards, he shifted to his human form cast a silent wandless Tempus, knowing at - bloody hell, it was past _midnight_? Damn - this time of night, nobody would be awake.

He frowned slightly at the potency of Harry's scent, which only increased as he passed through the wards, the feeling of Lily's protective magic bringing a tear to his eye. The Maraudess, they had taken to calling her with her proficiency to prank them and heal them and even protect them at times. She would often bring up shields around James and Sirius or around Sirius and Remus and around her and Remus when prank wars would ensue... Which was quite often, in all honesty.

Contrary to many people's thoughts, he was as close to Lily as he was to James. Lily had been the first to find out about his sexuality after all when they were out at a little cafe she loved in a Muggle town. They had gone on outings like that a lot, at first just to irritate James - to get him back from pranks and incessant flirting respectively - but eventually for each other's company. Lily was like a sister to him.

He only then realised he had stopped and that silent tears were rolling down his face as he reminisced. He yanked a handkerchief out of his pocket, the still somewhat fussy Pureblood still remaining in him as he had taken the chance to pick up one of the perfectly folded red and gold handkerchiefs he remembered him and James buying for a Yule Ball, both deciding to don the brightest red and gold Gryffindor dress robes they could find. James had worn gold with red embellishments, Sirius had worn red with gold embellishments. It had been amazing. They had shone with house pride as they argued over who got to dance with Professor McGonagall first. Sirius had won.

He had to forcefully yank himself out of the memories and stalked towards the door and rapped as loudly as he could on the wood, hoping to stir somebody. When he didn't hear anything from the house he repeated this. He could hear groaning and complaining fro upstairs at being woken and thunderous footsteps as if an obese elephant was coming down the stairs in solid iron shoes. He wondered house was reinforced to handle the stress of such a person coming down in amusement.

The door was thrown open by a purple-faced man that fit the description he had formed minus the shoes, much to his disappointment. The man glared at him.

"What do you want?" He snapped. "At this ungodly hour of the night?"

Sirius almost felt a bit sorry for the man before he noticed something as he breathed in and almost let out a growl.

Blood. Harry's blood. That's why his scent was so strong, not because he was an active and social boy as Sirius had hoped who played with the neighbours along the street but because his pup was bleeding.

The look of anger had the man, Vernon Dursley, the man who had made Lily cry at his and her sister's wedding by calling her a _freakish and dirty bitch'_ among several other less than pleasant things until Sirius dragged her away from the wedding - of course not until after Lily had gotten in some intricate spellwork to make the man impotent. It only lasted for a week, unfortunately, but it was a great spell that he took the effort to remember - tried to shut the door in Sirius' face, but he shoved his way inside with murder in his eyes and on his mind.

"Where's Harry?" He demanded.

"H-Harry... He's not here! He's - um - he's at a - at a sleepover!" the bulbous man before him managed to get out. Sirius sneered in disgust, a look very similar to that of the youngest Malfoy a few years down the line - one that reeked of superiority.

"Alright. Where? He needs to be picked up immediately." He said, an idea forming in his mind.

"I don't know! His friend's parent picked him up and was going to drop him back too." He excused with one of the worst lies Sirius had ever heard.

He took to ignoring the man, following his nose to the cupboard before his shoulder was gripped by a meaty hand and he was thrown back from the cupboard, too weak from Azkaban to fight back against the sudden attack.

But his wand was faster than any fat Muggle filth!

Oh, gods, he sounded like his family...

He didn't care, Harry was more important.

"Get out of my way, right now, or I will curse you into oblivion. You think was Lily did on your wedding day was bad? I'm a million times worse." He threatened, watching the man's piggy eyes bug and he recognised Sirius. Trembling slightly, he moved out the way, disappearing up the stairs to Sirius didn't care where.

He went to the cupboard, throwing the door open with a silent unlocking spell. He stared down at his little godson and struggled to hold back his gasp for the sheer amount of blood. Harry...

Half of him wanted to scoop up the boy, Apparate to Mungo's and let the Medi-Wizards deal with it. But Harry would be swamped there, people would try to get at him and he would not be safe. With Sirius here, he was safe and the Ministry wouldn't look here, they thought Sirius wouldn't be able to get through the wards. And if he got a haircut and some of those Muggle eye-colour-changy-things they wouldn't recognise him, he hoped. Those in the wizarding world were surprisingly idiotic when it came to such things. If they couldn't sense magic altering his appearance, they wouldn't look any further at him.

He would have to stay here. If he went to Mungo's it'd be too dangerous. He couldn't call Poppy, she'd rat him out to Dumbledore. He had to stay with Harry. He couldn't go back to Azkaban. Ever, ever again.

He knelt in the cupboard, spelling the light on and brightening it significantly so he could see. He didn't know as much healing magic as he would hope to deal with this but he hoped the combination of spells and potions would be enough.

And, he began.

When Sirius felt something press into the back of his head he could curse. Fucking Dursley.

Fucking Dursley had one of those shooty bangy things. He couldn't remember what they were called. He was only relieved that Harry was out of the woods so he could deal with this little problem... Well not so little.

He turned around, his wand in hand, standing up calmly, towering over the large man, no fear of the shooty thingy, as he had no comprehension of how truly dangerous the Muggle technology was.

Bella has poisoned him, honestly, what the hell was going on with him today? It made him wonder, trying not to get distracted.

"What is it, little man? Do you have something to say?" He asked, his hands gripping the gun. The adrenaline that ran through him gave him more strength than he could have logically, or maybe it was the magic finally reunited and reconnected with his body that allowed him to bend the barrel of the gun to a ninety-degree angle.

Dursley stared at him in shock as the gun was then wrenched out of his hands and a wand was held to his face.

"Oh, I am going to _enjoy_ this." Sirius's growl was more Grim than human as he incanted loudly, waking up the rest of the house excluding the small boy in the cupboard, "Stupify!"

Sirius had always been the best at the transfiguration, but this took the biscuit... Was that right? Took the biscuit?

It did help when your targets resembled animals so closely. And because of the wards acceptance of him and the untraceable charms on his wand allowing him to do magic without even the great Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump and Headmaster of Hogwarts, Self Proclaimed Leader of the light, voted Most Flexible In Order To Shove His Head That Far Up His Fat Ass, being aware.

Even so, this was too perfect.

The large hippo took up less space than Vernon Dursley usually did and was a horrific shade of purple that would have made the strongest man sick to his stomach. It was flopping around in a cage, smashing into the bars with silenced bellows, taking the stinging hexes that burned him every time he touched the bars. Sirius thought it was less than the bastard deserved after he saw all the damage done to his little pup.

 _Cracked skull..._

He only hoped the man would suffer more with the extra spells he had placed on him and he would have one last thing to do before he left with his little Harry.

 _Whip marks and_ _welts all over his back._

He couldn't wait to set up his little trick.

 _Burns._

 _Cuts from a knife._

 _Broken bones healed wrong._

 _Too many lacerations, everywhere, the worst on the head..._

His eyes drifted to the horse-faced bitch herself, now the picture of perfection, a rat at with a huge long neck and face, thin as a twig, trapped on a running wheel that shocked her every time she stopped.

 _Burns on his hands and arms and one particularly bad one on his leg._

It had taken everything for him not to inflict every injury that Harry had ever received onto the rat. She deserved it.

 _Chemical burns in his throat from being forced to swallow..._

He had to shut his thoughts off and look towards the final animal, a normal human. In all his evilness, he couldn't hurt the poor Dursley boy, he was only a boy, he didn't know what he was doing. He would have to make sure the boy was taught the error of his ways. So he just sat down and had a sincere talk with the boy before knocking him out with a sleeping spell. The worst he could do was give him a bad dream in which he saw everything he had done to Harry in his place.

He sighed, changing the Dursleys back finally and stunning the adults, releasing them from their little prisons. He left them in the upstairs room before heading down to make some food for him and his pup. They'd be gone before the Dursleys woke up.

He shoved some bread in the Toasty, water in the teapot, a cup of milk in the miniwave, and cracked two eggs into a pan, humming Stairway to Heaven cheerfully as he did so. He'd finally see his pup up and healthy after a night of healing and of punishing the Dursleys. He had, of course, finished dealing with his previous pup before he dealt with the relatives.

He heard quiet footsteps coming towards him and looked up, the movement hurting his still fragile body, and a genuine smile lit up his face, but he could feel the strain creeping in seeing how small and malnourished his baby pup was. He could only force out the practised words without crying.

"Harry, pup, you've grown!" He exclaimed. It was so different seeing his pup up and moving, even if he still seemed to be in pain and hurt and far too small. Unless he was wrong about the year. He looked to be about five years old. It couldn't be '85 though. His Tempus and the Dursleys' calender both agreed though, Harry was eight years old, still a baby but so small for his age, oh so small...

Harry just stared at him in pure confusion. Who was this strange man in his kitchen, cooking eggs for goodness sake? He didn't dare move from his spot in the doorway.

The man was staring at him back, at least until he noticed his eggs were burning, at which point he hurriedly turned off the stove. His eyes again returned to Harry. Neither said a word for a moment.

"Are you an angel?" Harry whispered, not realising immediately he had spoken aloud. He hadn't done that for a long time. And he wasn't in pain either, he just felt a bit lightheaded... He blinked, confused when the man burst into laughter at Harry's innocent question, walking over to him and kneeling in front of him with a wide smile that almost scared Harry.

"No, pup, I'm not an angel." He said, amusement clear in his voice. "I'm just like you. I'm a wizard."

Harry backed away from the clearly insane man. Magic didn't exist! And _Harry_ could not be a wizard - they were powerful and strong. He was weak, pathetic, unlovable. He couldn't be a wizard. It made no sense.

"I... But magic isn't real," Harry said. A moment passed before he realised his mistake. Mistakes. He had said the 'm' word and argued with an adult! Those were bad things.

There was another reason he couldn't be a wizard. He was bad. And wizards were good, nice, brave. He was none of that.

The man has adopted a very sad look as he watched him. "Have you ever made something impossible happen when you were mad or upset, or even just really excited?" He questioned. He continued when Harry looked up at him, startled. "That's accidental magic. It's completely normal." He said gently.

Harry thought back on his life, all the times he'd done something freakish and made Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia mad. He winced at the thoughts and looked up at the man again, gathering his confidence as he did something very bad.

"Prove it." The words came out as barely a whisper, but the man seemed to have heard it fine as he chuckled and pulled out a stick. A wand, Harry rationalised.

With a few flicks of his wand, the table had set itself and the food, two eggs with two slices of toast per egg, loaded itself onto plates and floated to the table. Another flick had the kettle pouring out since tea, adding milk and sugar on its own. Another - a cup of milk soared out of the microwave to have a few scoops of drinking chocolate powder stirred into it. The drinks joined the food on the table.

"Let's eat!" The man said cheerfully, picking up Harry, ignoring flinch at the touch, setting him down on the table in front of the plate with the hot chocolate.

Okay, maybe magic was real.

Over breakfast, Sirius explained who he was to Harry and that he was there to take him away from the Dursleys for good, to take him to his own home and gain full custody of him once his name had been cleared. He had explained Harry's own story, Voldemort, and the war. In his mind, it was all information Harry needed and deserved to know.

He would tell his pup the truth, always, James and Lily would want it no other way.

He had, of course, left out some details about Harry being a worldwide celebrity, wanting to give him a few years of a normal childhood before breaking that one to the poor boy. He had no doubt Harry would not be fond of crowds after his... Experiences.

Harry had agreed to come with Sirius and to Sirius adopting him as soon as possible. It had taken a lot of convincing the child that he wasn't going to hurt him and he was truly innocent, but he had gotten there eventually when he showed Harry part of the letter James had left.

 _Dear Harry..._

The words broke his heart but helped his cause. Just as the clock chimed for ten, Sirius and Harry left the Dursleys house with every item that belonged to Harry.

They left the house, arm in arm, apparating away to a house far away from the pristine houses of Privet Drive, leaving the residents to go back to their now perfect little lives.

 _27th Jan 18 - Minor edits to grammar and spelling mistakes_


	3. Chapter 3

Synopsis: From a young age, Harry could never understand the differences between the way he was treated by the Dursleys and the way the other boy in the house was. But he never thought it could change. How will the re-emergence of one lost godfather alter Harry's little life?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Warnings: Child abuse, probably slash in later chapters, lots of Dumbledore bashing.

* * *

From Chapter 2:

 _Just as the clock chimed for ten, Sirius and Harry left the Dursleys house with every item that belonged to left the house, arm in arm, apparating away to a house far away from the pristine houses of Privet Drive, leaving the residents to go back to their now perfect little lives._

* * *

Sarah Pevensey knew there was something... Off about this whole Sirius Black business. She had began a campaign after reading into Black's case file and discovering his lack of trial and proof of guilt. They had just sent him straight to Azkaban. It disgusted her.

The information had been posted in the Daily Prophet and it was announced that Black was to be brought in unharmed for a trial. If he was determined innocent, he would be compensated for his time in Azkaban and help his rehabilitation into society.

The Wizard Rights Activist Society had even taken up the case and were putting pressure on the Ministry. It was truly amazing how much fuss could be made over injustices to a wizard.

It was fantastic. Everything was going to plan. Within a few hours, she had gotten clearance for a Ministry wide sweep for injustices and modified memories which would lead to the release of anybody not deserving to be in Azkaban. And she would be waiting to welcome them back to the Wizarding World with open arms.

She stood to the side, watching as one Arthur Weasley was dragged off for further investigation. Pettigrew would be found and that Sirius Black would be as good as a free man. And free men were always grateful...

She couldn't keep the grin off her face as she tapped her 'new' wand against her leg, watching the masses be tested upon. She was back, for good.

* * *

Sirius looked up at the house in front of him, wincing slightly. This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea.

But it was the only one he had, he supposed.

He gazed steadily up at the house of his old friend Remus. He had nowhere else to go, this was his only oppurtunity to get Harry and be able to keep his godson. Away from those... Monsters. He couldn't come up with a better word to describe them.

Harry pulled away from Sirius' touch quickly, only confirming Sirius' darker thoughts about how he had been treated, and he made a point to smile at the too small boy before going forward to knock on the door, his hand coming to rest automatically at Harry's back protectively.

The door was thrown open and Sirius was met with a wand in his face. Harry hid behind his godfather, looking up at the man holding the stick in confusion.

"I didn't do it." Sirius rasped, his throat having gone dry the moment he saw his old friend.

Remus' eyes were a striking amber, brighter than usual, almost glowing in the morning sun, his hair thinner than Sirius had last seen it and greying, his skin pale and gaunt, covered in scars. He looked ill and half dead and it pulled at Sirius' heartstrings. He looked so different and yet the same as the last time he'd seen him. He only wished they were reuniting under better circumstances.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now." Remus demanded, voice cracking slightly.

"Moony, I-"

"Don't call me that!" The werewolf snapped, eyes flashing dangerously.

Sirius remained quiet for a moment, staring at Remus in barely concealed shock. He was never the one to snap, not at Sirius, not at James or Lily, not at the rat, not even at Snivellus on his worst days, and especially never in front of Harry.

Harry was pushed to the forefront of his mind in that moment as he reached behind him to grasp his godson's hand tightly, feeling the slight tremor with a stab of sadness.

"Remus," He reasoned, lowering his voice, "Please. For Harry. Just listen to what I have to say."

Remus blinked, his eyes going down to the hand gripped in Sirius', having apparently not noticed the small boys presence at all. Weird, Moony always seemed to know where Harry was when he was a baby. Harry had been a little rascal and Moony was the only one who could ever find him when he went toddling off on an adventure.

Those had been good times.

"Come in," The werewolf finally murmured, almost dropping his wand as he moved out of the doorway to allow Sirius and his charge through.

The conversation that followed the invitation to the house was a long and painful one that resulted in Harry running off in fear twice, Sirius being hit over the head with a rolled up newspaper a staggering and record breaking eleven times, and Remus sighing an earth shattering, world shaking, record destroying thirty times.

Any onlooker to this conversation would be duly impressed. And any onlooker to the current scene inside the cottage would be equally enamoured with the cuteness of an eight year old Harry Potter snuggled underneath the arm of his Uncle Moony, finally fully healed physically and exhausted emotionally and magically.

Several shocking epiphanies had occurred during the conversation that were currently battling it out for the top spot in the 'WTF' factor.

The first of these was that fake memories about Sirius and Harry had been implanted into Remus' mind by an unknown person. Their magical signature was off for Dumbledore, it felt like an older, more powerful presence, so claimed Sirius after the reluctant werewolf had finally put a modicum of trust in the framed con. These memories incriminated Sirius and made Harry appear to be in a happy and caring home, not with the Dursleys, in an untraceable location under the influence of a powerful blood ward.

The second of these revelations was the reason Harry came with Sirius so easily and considering Harry's past, not too baffling but was not taken well by Sirius or Remus. This was that Harry had been encouraged by his so called 'family' to go off with strangers willingly and to talk to strangers too. This revelation is notably the least to qualify for the top spot.

The third of these revelations was the fact that the way to prove Sirius' innocence was so simple it made absolutely no sense. He was Harry's godfather, bound by magic not to harm Harry, directly or indirectly. Crisis averted, innocence explained. But why had nobody figured this out? Becuase anybody who did know the inner workings of magical bonds, at least in England, were Purebloods with no incentive to get a Blood Traitor out of prison. The rest was made up of the rest of the wizarding world outside of England, where such things were usually taught in school. But nobody outside of England wanted to mess with the steaming pile of manure that was the British Wizarding World, so they simply paid them no mind and limited use of international Portkeys despite being perfectly able to make them.

The fourth was more a curious working theory. Sirius had noticed that Harry's infamous scar, the lightening bolt from a child's drawing, was not in fact just a scar or just a lightning bolt. The scar was a physical representation of death. Or more appropriately a physical representation of the Killing Curse, in the shape of crude bolt of lightning for the simple reason that this was the necessary wand movement for the Killing Curse. Looking at it from a side of magical theory, Remus pondered, it was a mark of Death himself and maybe a clue to the potential of Harry being the legendary Master of Death, since the Killing Curse was essentially pure Death Magic. But it was only a working theory.

The fifth was the most shocking according to Sirius, but then again what was more shocking than having your jacket catch fire? And then finding out your innocent little godson is not only to blame but fully in control of the fire. Tiny bastard, Sirius couldn't help but think. His godson was a pyromancer! Who had accidentally set alight Sirius' new favourite article of clothing catch fire because he had apparently said something wrong. He had no clue what. Maybe it was something about the dirty Muggles... Mystery solved.

The sixth and final of the Marauder Mind Blowers was the most shocking according to Remus. It occurred when Remus and Sirius insisted upon performing a full physical examination on Harry after Sirius had revealed he had Harry. Sirius was a great healer but he had just gotten out of Azkaban and gone crazy on some muggles, Remus highly doubted he would have gotten every injury and documented them. Remus had trained to be a healer with Madame Pomfrey while at Hogwarts, but couldn't continue after he left as Poppy was simply too busy. He was stumped however when he found what appeared to be a tattoo on Harry's back that Harry didn't even know he had.

It was intricate and beautiful, both Marauders had to note, a bird resembling a phoenix woven out of runic sequences and ancient symbolic designs. Sirius and Remus combined could only decipher a few of the mess of meaning, but what they did recognise was truly amazing.

There were symbols for fire - obviously the origin of Harry's pyromancy - and earth, on the head and tail of the bird respectively.

On each wing was another symbol, larger than the rest, standing out, that took the consulting of a runic dictionary for them to decipher. They represented lightning and darkness respectively.

In the middle of the bird, the largest symbol of all, read ominously Death.

It wasn't until Sirius traced the symbol with his wand that the final shock was delivered.

The bird moved!

It's wings stretched out and the beak moved to nip at the wand. Harry had gasped, apparently feeling something as it happened. The bird's colour changed from black to a quickly brightening orange-red before the bird began to gain dimension, giving off a large amount of heat as it did, causing Remus and Sirius to back up in bewilderment, eyed widening as the head of the bird peeled away from the boy's heavily scarred back before the full bird did break away.

The runes were not as obvious now, a shade more yellow than the rest of the bright bird, who flapped in the air for a moment before perching on Harry's shoulder.

While both Sirius and Remus looked on in shock, a grin spread across the boy's face as he chirped at the bird, "Xi!"


End file.
